How To Save A Life
by TaquitoEveningStar
Summary: When a girl's diary is found, her secrets are spilled to random strangers from her school that lead to remorse yet to be endured. No one knows why she did what she did or what went on in her life, but the truth is soon to be revealed.OOC,AU
1. Prologue

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Twilight.  
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**A/N: This idea became etched in my mind and decided to write it out. This is a little taste of it and I'm not sure if I will update it any time soon. Keep that in mind. This does include a few mature topics, but I'm keeping it T rated. Okay, well here you go. **

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**A girl killed herself yesterday. The news spread like wildfire at the high school. Everybody knew who she was, but instead of people breaking into tears, they broke into high laughter and high-fived each other. It was sad to admit, but I was kind of happy in a way. The girl was just plain weird. But she didn't deserve a celebration as her funeral.

You could hear people singing "Ding Dong, the Witch is dead, the Wicked Witch, Ding Dong, the Wicked Witch is dead!" in the hallways as they skipped merrily to the tune. People called her a witch because she looked like death. Her hair was a soft brown in the sunlight, but there was hardly any sun here so it draped across her face like black spider webs. She wore black leggings and a thin jacket to cover her body. You usually couldn't see her face since she hid it with a hood or either her hair. And when ever you see her walking into class or down a hallway, you couldn't help but notice the thick, black book in her hand. Everyone nicknamed it her _Spell Book of Doom_. You would have thought that once she heard the rumor, she would throw that book out, but no. She did nothing about it or her appearance. She stuck to who she was.

So here I am, standing by my locker, listening to my friends who could have been mistaken for monkeys. They noogied each other and yelled profanities when Jessica Stanley comes running to us with her six inch heels clicking and brown curls bouncing up and down. She looked like she was about to crap her pants. That expression told us she found some juicy gossip that the whole school would be talking about for the next month. And boy, were we right. Being the gossip girl that she is, she always began her sentence like this," Guess what! Guess what! Did you hear what happened? You didn't? Well you've come to the right person to tell you," and blah, blah, blah. I usually ignored her, but when she said the Witch's name and dead in the same sentence, I couldn't help but drop my jaw to the floor. The guys cheered as Jessica stood all tall and proud for making the announcement.

And that's when The Witch's Diaspora Rumor begun. It was all people ever talked about. Even the nerds with the inevitable nose bleeds talked about her instead of Star Wars, and the Goths talked about her instead of where they could find a dentist who could make vampire dentures for them. The shy girls whispered about her and the teachers didn't even realize that she went to this school. Every clique and posse discussed her here.

I took a bite from my apple as I listened to my table blather away about today's top subject. My brother didn't say anything about it, but merely laughed along with the others when they came up with a joke about her. I felt disgusted with these people. Didn't they know how much her mother was grieving over her lost? Obviously not.

But I did. I saw her mother this morning as I drove past their house. Her eyes were red and puffy, while the tears lingered on her cheeks and dripped down to her chin, falling, and then hitting the pavement. She looked very much like the Witch except for the white blouse she was wearing and she didn't look like death. She talked to a police officer on her driveway as he jotted down notes.

So I wasn't cheering along with the rest of the school or gossiping because I knew the true reality of it. I knew how much of a tragedy it was for her family. But I didn't know why she did this to herself. No one knew what went on in her life since no one made the effort to become her friend. They just labeled her as the Witch and stuck to it. If I owned a time machine, I would have traveled back in time to befriend her and have a look into her fears. But time is forever lost.

People say life is short. I always thought how stupid that sounded since ninety or eighty years seemed pretty long. But a thought just occurred to me. What if you died at seventeen years old? That was definitely a short life. You would never graduate from high school, go to college, fall in love, get married, have children, or watch your children's children grow up. People say life is short because you never know when you're going to die. Whether it's tomorrow or next week. You never know.

But the Witch knew.

I sat next to her in English class when the teacher told us to write a random thought that was going on in our heads right now. I wrote about how I couldn't wait to see that new horror flick with my friends at the mall. I glanced over at the Witch's paper and saw her write down _Life is short_. Three simple words put together that declared her true intentions.

Isabella Swan wasn't dangerous, but was a danger to herself.

"Hey Alice! Are you coming to Newton's party? I'll bring the beer."

"No. I think I might pay a visit to the Witch- I mean, to Isabella's mom." I stood up from the table, something I should have done a long time ago. Their faces were priceless. They all looked at me like I had a second head sprouting out of me, but all I did was call her by her first name. I was skipping my classes today because it seemed the teachers thought it was some sort of field day. It wasn't. It was a wake up call to me and my conscience pleaded with me to try and tie up loose ends.

I drove up the Swan's driveway in my yellow Porsche next to Isabella's ugly, red truck. I readied myself when I rung the doorbell. I waited for about a minute when the door finally opened and Renee Swan revealed in her utter distraught self. She hiccuped and excused herself. She welcomed me in. She asked me if the whole school knew and I nodded giving a sarcastic thanks to Jessica. I learned that the police weren't going to investigate this situation since Renee just wanted her daughter's life to be remembered in peace and not become some kind of crime case. I told her that I didn't really know Isabella, but was in a class with her. She began crying saying that it was all her fault Isabella didn't have any friends. I patted Renee's back and spoke soothing words to her. It was a matter of time before she hushed her crying with little snores. Of course she was tired. I smiled sadly at her appearance and positioned her sleeping form on to the couch.

I was about to walk back to my car and catch a few minutes of school that was left, but curiosity got the best of me. I was curious to see Isabella's room. It was rude to look around someone's home without permission, but something was telling me to go on and look. Like I was under a spell or something, I obeyed and listened to the voice egging me to go upstairs. There house was small, almost cottage like. I went to the first bedroom and realized it was the master bedroom. I continued on until I stopped at the end of the hallway. I pushed it open and gasped.

Her room was nothing like I expected it to be. When I thought it would be painted black, it was painted yellow. Sea shells were scattered around her dresser. Her bedspread was of palm trees and ocean waves. Purple and rainbow leis were nailed to the wall creating a border of flowers. She had a dolphin and sea turtle stuffed animal by her pillow and her room smelled like pineapples. The room resembled the beach. On her nightstand was a picture of a girl in a one piece bathing suit. She held up a starfish in one hand, smiling a beautiful smile. The girl wore her hair in a flimsy pony tail and sunglasses blocking her eyes. She looked familiar, and I would have never thought that it could be Isabella because she never smiles.

Next to it was the black book. I bit my lip, trying to fight the temptation to pick it up and read it. It wasn't mine and that would be called stealing. I gave up and rushed over to it. I opened it and it revealed a messy scribble. The first page said

**_To My Beautiful Daughter_**

**_May You Always Remember_**

**_How Much I Love You_**

**_LOVE, DAD  
_**

I turned the page and continued on. I was finally going to get a look inside Isabella's head, something that the school would find as a joke. I read that one page and already felt the connection to her mind. The black book wasn't a spell book, but a diary.

I placed the diary in my purse and walked out the room. I fought off the guilt and told myself that it would be worth it. Renee still slept on the couch with a peaceful look on her face. I gave her a sad smile and headed back to my car and drove back home.

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**A/N: REVIEW! And also check out my other story that is going rather smoothly. Next chapter will probably take a while since this isn't my main priority. Thanks for reading!**


	2. When It Rains

**Disclaimer: **I own a dog named Molly, but not Twilight.

**A/N:**** In here, there is a snippet of Bella's diary and then it goes to her POV in the past. Alice was the narrator in the last one. There are also five**** IMPORTANT things you should know. Bella does not cut herself or gets violated in any way. The characters in here are very out of character and their relationships differ. This is a Bella and Edward story. Bella is a nature girl. This story is based on a true story but put in Twilight mode. So sit back, relax and enjoy the story! :D**

**Thank you to Faded Feathers, ItsNotEnoughToSayIMissUx, Curious Butterfly, Selena, liv3069, Miss-EmmettCullenn, taylorcullenforever, singing_angel17, and TheyCallMeSpeed for leaving reviews.  
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**Special thanks to taylorcullenforever for being the Beta Reader for this story. She added most of the details and made this chapter a whole lot better, so kudos to her!

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_**When It Rains**_

_And when it rains_

_Will you always find an escape?_

_Just running away_

_From all of the ones who love you_

_From everything_

_Sept. 13, 2008_

_Dear Diary,_

_I've never given thought to how the world works. To how life works._

_You're born. Your parents take care of you. You grow up. You begin to understand the things around you, and there are some things that you want to know more about. Then you go into that awkward teenage stage and begin to see how much you hate yourself. You then get over it and graduate from high school to go over to college, leaving your parents with broken hearts. A boy catches your eye, as do you. You fall in love and get married. You become pregnant and your husband will get you a banana cream pie if you're craving it. Then you go through the same thing your mom and dad did with you. You make home videos of your baby girl's first Christmas. You struggle with money for a while and fight with your husband, but eventually everything smoothes out. You give the birds and the bees talk when your daughter finally gets her monthly gift. You watch her grow up as you grow old with the man who promises to love you until death do you guys part. You have flashbacks and ponder on how time flies. Your daughter repeats what you did and creates another generation of your bloodline. She makes you babysit the grandchildren as she goes off to Hawaii for her anniversary. Then you get sick after eighty-seven eventful years. You spend your last moments with your loved one before death claims you._

_That's how many people say how it should be. But mine was never like that._

_I grew up and saw for what the world really was. The world was full of murder, robbery, rape, suicides, cheating, and corruption. Countries fought each other for land and power. Cyber bullying leads to a girl hanging herself. Some psycho picks up prostitutes and kills them, leaving them in a river. A girl was kidnapped and never found. A man killed his ex-wife, children, and himself. A football player participated in dogfights where you bet on which dog you think will make the kill._

_The world is cruel. I hate living in it. The person, who I had loved dearly and trusted, broke me so I hate him too. _

_If there is someone out there, anyone, please give me a good reason on how a person can be so goddamn happy living here on earth.

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_**Bella, September 7**_

"She ruins everything, Mom! I don't want to be seen with her at all! Have you seen the way she dresses? It's like she's the epitome of the entire world's negativity!"

I shut my eyes closed as I listened to her screaming and complaining about me.

There was a party—a neighborhood party to be exact—that most of the teenagers at my school were going to and some of the adults too, so there was to be no drinking or drugs. I didn't want to go, but my mom said I needed to socialize and meet new people. My sister, however, thought of me as an embarrassment. She didn't like to hang out with me or even be seen with me.

"She's your sister though."

"Are you sure she wasn't adopted? Because I'm pretty sure her real parents dumped her by the sewer."

"Rosalie! Don't talk about her that way. _She_ can go to the Stanley's house and maybe I should keep _you_ at home."

"That is so unfair, Mom! Bella doesn't even want to go. She hates people. You know that. All my friends will be there and I don't want them to know that the Witch is related to me." Her words stung, deep and irrevocable. Chipping at my self-protecting brick wall more than I'd like.

"That's it. You're not going." Footsteps approached my door. Rosalie's voice broke through, reverberating through the house. The knob stopped cold, as her voice wavered with pleadings.

"Okay, okay! I'll take her with me. But she better be up for a makeover because I'm not having anyone recognize her." Audibly I could hear the hand on my doorknob withdraw, the door standing still in knowing that it would not be opened.

I ran my fingers along the soft, white fur of my dog, Molly. She slept in me lap, curled up as I resisted tears. I haven't cried since eighth grade and didn't plan on it. Weak people cried and I didn't want to be weak.

Even though my eyes were dry, my nose began to run. The oozing wetness uncomfortable as it trickled downward. I sniffled loudly and the sound caused Molly to lift her head up. She blinked her green eyes at me, cocking her head to the side. As if to ask me what was wrong. "Nothing's wrong." I said to her as if she understood. "I'm just tired. I don't want to go to that party, but Mom's making me." She licked the palm of my hand as I scratched behind one of her short, floppy ears. "You know I would rather stay home with you. But I have to show Mom that I'm okay. I'm fine and he didn't affect me at all." Molly nibbled on my hand as if to punish me for lying. "Stop it. I'm fine." She stopped nibbling my thumb and rested her snout on my knee.

My door suddenly flew open, the hinges screaming out from the force. I squinted my eyes belligerently at Rosalie.

"Ever heard of knocking?" I asked.

"Yeah, I have. Ever heard of being normal for once?" She retorted in an icy voice. Molly hopped off my legs and slid passed Rosalie, with her tail tucked behind her.

Rosalie walked closer to the edge of my bed and winced at the sight of my clothes. She sighed and met my eyes.

"Listen, Bella. I know that…you're going through a hard time, but Mom and I are going through the same thing as you are. Yet you don't see me dressing up in fish net sleeves or wearing dark make up. You don't see Mom cutting off ties with other people. We moved on. You should do the same too." She patted my arm and her expression softened as she talked.

"This party is a big deal for me. Tanya said there would be hot guys there who might be a candidate for my future husband and possibly the father of my children. And I really need you to act like the perfect sister. Just do that and let me dress you and give you a cover story is all I am asking."

I frowned when she said, "dress up." There wasn't a book in the world that stated how to correctly dress or look. If I wanted to wear a black t-shirt, then I will wear a black t-shirt. I don't care what I look like as long as people just leave me alone.

I would've told Rosalie off, but I'm scared of her. The only rational thing to do was to just let her have her way. So I just nodded my head glumly and waited for her to leave my room.

I stood up and slowly walked over to my vanity mirror that was decorated in flower leis and seashell necklaces. It's funny how my room looked so happy and relaxing when I was a complete and utter mess.

My reflection came into view and I gently touched the features of my face. I had a diamond shaped face with high cheekbones, a slanted jaw, and a pointed chin. My skin was ashen and delicate looking. It seemed like if you were to poke it, it would leave a purplish blue mark. My forehead was a little too big since my eyebrows sat above my eyes too closely. The bridge of my narrow nose bone was wedged between my brown, almond figure eyes that held no depth to them. My lips were small and chapped from barely speaking. Soft strands of my dark black hair scattered over my head and hung down to my butt. I planned on donating it for cancer patients.

My mom told me I was beautiful and I believed her. But now a days, she hasn't really talked to me anymore so I can't really tell if I'm still a "_Blooming, Beautiful Blossom of a Blessing Bella_." That used to be my old nickname.

Now I'm known as the Witch at my high school. I was the infamous girl who carried around a book full of spells that could turn you into a pot-bellied pig. I was the girl who was most likely to end up in a straight jacket one day or on the news where a student opens fire on campus.

Stupid Jessica.

Little did they know that I worked at the animal shelter feeding and playing with helpless animals that can crap a butt load. I'm the one who volunteers to pick fresh flowers and place it on Fork's Memorial Park graves every weekend. I also took walks in the woods to make sure the environment was still its natural appearance. _I'm such a bluenose._

It's so easy to have people judge you. Not one of my classmates bothered talking to me, unless we had a group project or something. Just because you weren't happy and didn't smile every five seconds, makes you a plague or a fish out of water. I think the happy people are the ones you should avoid, not the ones who are silent and threaten you with their eyes when ever you're sitting too close to them.

But that's okay. I prefer to be alone and not bothered. I hate humans and I hate being one, so **I made a bed at the bottom of the blackest hole and convinced myself that it's not the reason I don't see the sun anymore.**

My hand dropped from my cheek when the sound of tears falling from heaven pounded and clinked on top of the roof. The window fogged up quickly and little clear dots spread across the glassy surface.

Another thing I hate. Rain. I was already gloomy as it is and I didn't need any reminding of how cloudy my life was.

"Bella! Time for school!" My mom hollered. Rosalie passed my doorway, a swoosh of air pushing toward me as she gracefully descended down the stairs. Her hips tittered from side to side, her feet plunking softly down on the floor then popping up into the air in such a way that it would bring anyone to tears.

"Ugh, I can't believe it's raining again. Especially when I just curled my hair today," she whined as I followed closely behind. _What did you think Washington is known for? The City of lights? The City that never sleeps?_ I thought about saying those comments out loud, but held my tongue.

A car honked outside, which I figured was Tanya, Rosalie's good ol' chum. She was the only person at our school who had knowledge of me being sisters with the fairest girl at Forks High. Rosalie ended up ripping my Mrs. Rabbit stuffed animal when I stepped out of hiding to use the bathroom while Tanya was there.

Lucky for us, she promised not to tell as long as Rosalie gave her all the tips on how to flirt, look alluring, and strut a walk like a ballerina, yet fierce like a cheetah on the prowl. Those are Rosalie's words, not mine. To me, they both looked stupid when they swung their hips right to left as they walked in a straight line with their feet basically gliding. But in truth, I'm just jealous.

As for rides to school, Rosalie carpooled to school with Tanya. I drove in my red truck. This transportation arrangement worked out perfectly since none of us were caught together.

The drive only took me less than ten minutes and I soon pulled up into a parking space, cramped between a yellow Porsche and a jeep that took up two spaces.

I hesitantly got out and cringed as a drop of water splashed on my nose. I threw my hood on and slung my backpack over my shoulder.

I headed through the rain and made my safe escape from it when I reached the double doors. I took my hood off and shook away the beads of water clinging on to my hair roots. Then I slowly glanced at my surroundings.

A group of band students with instruments stood next to me and quickly scurried away once they noticed my presence. The girls with lipsticks by the lockers, glared at me for a fraction of a second before going back to applying make up. Some guy with liberty spikes threw a football in the air that was a centimeter away from giving me a concussion. He snickered when I duck low and walked off to the side.

I got lost into the sea of teenagers as I made my way to my locker that contained my books, a comb, and a bottle of stow away Tylenol (I tend to trip on my own record or someone else does that for me, so I always get scraped knees and tiny nicks).

People bumped shoulders with me while I stared at my feet, making sure they didn't get tangled with someone else's.

"She slept with him?" Angela asked Jessica when I walked by. I could also hear millions of other conversations.

"I cheated off of Yorkie's test and my grade went up to a C+. Just hope he doesn't tell anyone or I'm off the team and he gets a black eye."

"I caught my boyfriend and my best friend hooking up on my couch!" I heaved a sigh and stopped next to three cheerleaders propped against a wall near me.

"What did you do when you saw them?" her blonde haired friend asked her.

"Joined them of course!" They all giggled and then grimaced when they saw me. I looked them into their eyes and hoped they could hear what I was shouting in my mind.

_STDs! STDs! STDs!_

I grabbed what I needed and went to my biology class before the bell rang.

I passed by the peach colored walls with drama and rally posters, and kept my eyes down casted on the square patterned flooring. The neon lights gave the hallways a gloomy, hospital interior, and the white benches added more affect.

I stepped into my loud biology classroom full of monkey imbeciles and immediately felt weary.

Another thing I hate.

High school.


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